#I don't have to hope he never changed I know he didn't

[rockscanfly]

Noshir Dalal's (Charles Smith's VA and the man who largely shaped Charles into the singular character that he is, found here on tumblr @noshirdalal and on Cameo [in case you have your own questions you'd like answered]) beautiful response to my cameo prompt:

Q: You’ve mentioned before that Charles likes to read. What is his favorite book? Also, you’ve talked some about cowboy poetry and how you think it’s something Charles might have connected to. Can we get a favorite poem of his in his voice?

Besides the fact that this reading of "The Men That Don't Fit In" was just plain fantastic and moving as all get out, I really admire Noshir's choice of poem.

Similar to the poem’s author and his simultaneous celebration and castigation of the prototypical outlaw, Charles always came off to me as someone who loves his fellow gang members deeply but who didn't share their illusions about themselves or how they function within the larger context of the world around them.

Charles makes several remarks throughout the game ('Unpleasant? How do you rob and kill people pleasantly?' 'All this death and for what? Just so we can have enough money to be able to run from what we've done?' 'The amount of hell we raised, we’re owed some back') that indicate a high level of self-awareness about what it is the gang ACTUALLY does and how they're perceived by the outside world. 

Arthur makes some gestures at this understanding throughout the game, but his moral musings are undercut by his inability to stand his ground against Dutch throughout the numerous acts of outright cruelty his found-father perpetuates in Chapters 4-6 (Arthur barks, but he never bites).

Arthur and John have their gripes and moans, but ultimately the two of them stick it out until the bloody end. Charles is the first person to really break free of the fate the gang is hurtling towards.

In a tragedy built on the back of it's main cast's inability to cope with a changing world, Charles is arguably the character who exerts the most agency. He makes the decision in Chapter 6--when the circumstances that once tied him to the gang have dramatically altered--to cut loose.

Because of this choice, he lives.

To me, at least, this poem--and Noshir's brilliant delivery--isn't about Charles himself. Or at least not just about himself.

Its him talking about the Van der Linde gang. Arthur and John, his second family. Wild, brilliant, bold, true, free--and gone. With nothing but graves to show for the lives they lived.

Charles isn't reciting a poem--he's reciting a eulogy.

Transcript:

Hey Rocks. Um, thank you for your patience with all of this. 

Yeah, so we know that Charles reads and I know that we’ve talked before about a scene that apparently didn’t make it into the game, where after Charles’ interaction with Micah—and you know, yeeting him across the camp—Arthur comes upon him reading a book. 

That uh, that scene affected me in a major way and I think it's probably the reason I portray Charles the way I do. 

A guy who can physically manhandle pretty much anyone at camp having the mental and emotional maturity and self-regulation—if you can’t tell I’m a new dad [laughs]—to find a way to deal with his anger that doesn’t involve acting out and breaking stuff? 

Told me a tremendous amount about Charles, especially because what I’d been introduced to was the idea that Charles was a really violent, really angry maniac. 

And I love the idea that he’s really into poetry. I like poetry a lot. Actually when I was working on that latest skin for Yone (spl?) for League of Legends, I learned from the writing team that cowboy poetry is, like, a thing. 

And so I decided to look some up. And I like to think that maybe that this is a poem that Charles would have had in that book he was reading. 

The poem is called “The Men That Don’t Fit In” by Robert W. Service. Fitting, I think, especially for Charles for a number of reasons. I hope you like it. 

[Noshir goes into Charles’ voice and recites below poem by Robert W. Service (British-born Canadian Poet, 1874-1958), published in his book Songs of the Yukon (1907)]

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far; They are strong and brave and true; But they’re always tired of the things that are, And they want the strange and new. They say: “Could I find my proper groove, What a deep mark I would make!” So they chop and change, and each fresh move Is only a fresh mistake. And each forgets, as he strips and runs With a brilliant, fitful pace, It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones Who win in the lifelong race. And each forgets that his youth has fled, Forgets that his prime is past, Till he stands one day, with a hope that’s dead, In the glare of the truth at last. He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance; He has just done things by half. Life’s been a jolly good joke on him, And now is the time to laugh. Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost; He was never meant to win; He’s a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone; He’s a man who won’t fit in.

[laserbobcat]

how does everyone else see Leshy and Morgan in the cult? Are ppl like ‘yeah those idiots are clearly in love’ or do they think they fight because they actually hate each other?

The general opinion? I'll go for a timeline: -It starts as "What a weird green guy the Lamb brought to the cult, he's grumpy and rude and bad at everything he tries, when he tries at all. But Morgan is helping him around despite the bad attitude, Morgan is always such a sweetheart." -Then one day Leshy is crashed through a barn window by the cat, who follows and does his best to murder him. It's a rough, bloody, scary fight that most followers are not used to see. "Why didn't the Lamb punish Leshy, I know Morgan said he was the one who attacked, but there had to be a good reason right? He would never do something like that! Why is he isolated? Haven't seen him in a week. Let's avoid Leshy that mf is scary as hell, he changed into a monster and raised spikes everywhere." -Turns to "WHY the hell are those two hanging around like that? They constantly insult each other and sometimes they fight- thank the Lamb they never go too far- but why does Morgan continues helping Leshy? I didn't even know he could yell like that, or knew that many swear words. Sometimes they actually laugh- this is insane. Are they friends??? At least we have someone to call when Leshy is fucking around, he's the only one who can make the bastard stop, except the Lamb."

-And later "Yeah they're friends. No, the fighting is normal, don't worry, it's their thing. Yeah I know, it really looks like they're going for murder haha. But that's tame for them, trust me. They seem to play around more than they fight lately though. Don't be rude to Morgan it makes the worm man angry. But he's not that bad nowadays." -Finally "No you don't understand- they HAVE to be fucking right? They're always glued to each other, and they're so touchy they look like an old couple, and- yes I know friends can do that- but the sexual tension though. Leshy is obviously down bad. My money is on them being lovers. Yes, there's bets going around. Lots of them. Wanna join? the rule is observe and don't interfere. I really hope Morgan ends up noticing Leshy's tail wagging when he's happy around him. I put a lot of money on that bet." I'm only into slowburns when they're really well written (pretty rare in my opinion, most authors use shallow reasons to drag things out) EXCEPT when the reason for the slowburn is awkwardness and stupidity. Comedy is my drug.

[magicalrocketships]

Rivers of Light || Max/Daniel || part 10 ||

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.) Cyril's hot wife remains made up (I mean, she may be hot in real life but I don't even know for certain if she exists, therefore this version of his hot wife remains made up).

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here. This chapter is on AO3 here.

Max hasn't had many people be kind to him since he crashed out of Formula 1. He'd forgotten how it had felt.

Part 10

Bastiaan falls asleep in Cyril's arms after dinner. One minute he's frowning up at him, and the next, his little eyes are closing and he's falling asleep right where he's tucked up against Cyril's chest.

Max contains his jealousy well. Bastiaan's never fallen asleep anywhere other than with him. This whole trip has been full of new experiences for his baby, and he must be very tired. Max would like to fall asleep too, but he hasn't slept through the night in a long time. He's used to it by now, but even being used to it doesn't mean he doesn't wish it was different sometimes. 

That he could, just for once, put the weight down. 

He and Daniel don't stay long after Bastiaan falls asleep. It's late anyway, but his baby stays mostly asleep through having his little hat and sleeping bag put on him, and his mittens tucked down over his hands. He stirs as he's put down in the carrycot, but he's asleep again after Max has shushed him, moved the pram back and forth to rock him a little as Daniel says goodnight to Cyril and Sephine before they turn their attention to Max. He gets kissed on the cheek by both of them. Cyril says he will call when Max is back home, and Sephine says they'll have to have Max and Bastiaan to stay when Max is next in Paris. It's nice. It's kind. It's a lot. Max hasn't had many people be kind to him since he crashed out of Formula 1. He'd forgotten how it had felt. 

It almost makes him want to cry. 

He doesn't. 

He's not sure he can anymore. 

&&&

Bastiaan wakes up an hour after they get back to the hotel, which is about half an hour after Max has passed out in the big bed with the carrycot next to him. When he'd gone to sleep, Daniel was still awake, scrolling through his phone with the lamp on by the little bed under the window. He had refused to let Max sleep there. But when Bastiaan starts to cry, the lamps are off, and Max tries to keep it that way in case Daniel can somehow sleep through his tiny, tearful baby making his feelings known. 

He's not a happy baby. Max cycles through the things he knows to do: nappy change, trying for a feed, nappy check again, a little playtime with his giraffe and his rattle, but Bastiaan doesn't want or need any of it. He's miserable and fierce about it, red cheeked and angry, little cries that tear Max's chest in half. He sadly accepts a feed after about half an hour, and that keeps him quiet for a while, but the moment Max tries to put him back down in his carrycot he's crying again, the saddest baby that anyone has ever seen. Max wants to cry too. He's so, so tired. He hates Bastiaan being so unhappy and not being able to tell Max what he needs. He hopes babies don't get nightmares. Bad dreams are awful enough when you're old enough to understand them. Max kisses his little flushed cheeks. 

"I'm sorry, little baby," Max says, over Bastiaan's exhausted sobs. "I know we're not at home. You've met all these new people today and I think everything smells funny and you don't know where you are. You've been very brave and now you don't want to be anymore, do you? You just want to be asleep but you don't know that you have to stop crying to get that, because you're only little. Such a little baby, my baby Bastiaan." He kisses his hair. Cradles him close. "We're not alone like normal, my baby, and it's not just me you're keeping awake. You made a new friend today, didn't you? And I think he'd like to go back to sleep now. Can we let him? Can we just go to sleep, baby?"

"It's okay," Daniel says finally. "You can put the lamp on. I'm awake."

"I'm sorry," Max says. He sounds desperate because he is. He's so tired. "I don't know why he's so upset. I can't make him stop."

"He's a baby, I think," Daniel says. He switches the lamp on. Sits up and swings his legs out of bed. He's in a t-shirt and his boxers. He'd still been dressed when Max had fallen asleep.

Max is topless because he'd fed Bastiaan, and part of him wants to cover up. He wants to shut that voice down inside of his head that's his dad, that's telling him to be ashamed of feeding his baby, but he's too tired to fight it. He cradles Bastiaan to his chest instead. Kisses his head. 

Daniel looks at him. "Max," he says. "Come on. Take a break. Why don't you give him to me for a few minutes. Go and wash your face or have a shower or something. You look wrecked."

"He's crying," Max says, trying to shush his distraught, exhausted baby, but Max is so, so tired. "I can't leave him."

"You can," Daniel says. "I'm assuming you don't have help in the middle of the night normally. Just let me help this time. Take a break. Go on. Have a shower or something."

"I don't want a shower," Max says. He wants his baby to go to sleep. 

"Honestly," Daniel says. "Give him here. Just for a few minutes."

Max finds himself holding out his baby for Daniel to take. He doesn't want to trust anyone with Bastiaan, but he needs to pee and it would be nice to do that just once without holding a baby in the middle of the night. A shower would be nice too, but it's not shower time. He lets out a ragged, desperate breath.

"Take a shower," Daniel says, as he rocks a crying Bastiaan, cradling him close. "Go on. I'll call if I need you."

"I'll be two minutes," Max says, staring longingly at the bathroom. Back at his tearful baby.

"Take five," Daniel says. "Push the boat out."

Max takes four. He comes out with his underwear pulled back on with a fresh pad inside, and a towel around his waist. His hair's wet and Daniel had been right, it had been good to stand under the hot spray for a minute. Breathe. Bastiaan's still crying but it's not as urgent as it had been before. He sounds so, so tired. Such a tired little baby. 

Daniel's got his phone in one hand and Bastiaan in his other. He's playing a soft little video of baby lullabies and water sounds with a slow animation of little twinkling stars accompanying it. He looks over at Max and winks. Bastiaan's eyes are starting to droop, but he's still crying. He's trying to chew on his fist. 

"Does that mean he's hungry?" Daniel asks. 

Max nods. He holds his hands out, but Daniel shakes his head.

"It's okay. Get into bed and then I'll hand him to you. Do you need anything?"

Max has his water bottle by the bed. He's okay. He drops the towel on the floor and gets into bed. He beckons Daniel over with his baby. 

Daniel tucks Bastiaan carefully into Max's arms, then makes a big show of getting the pillows from the other side of the bed and putting them behind Max to prop him up. It is more comfortable, but it's okay. Max was coping. Bastiaan doesn't need much help latching on, and for a moment there's quiet except for the soft sound of Daniel's lullaby video and Bastiaan's sleepy little sucks. 

"I'll leave it on," Daniel says quietly. "I think it helped."

Max nods. He's so, so tired. 

Daniel takes Max's water bottle and goes to refill it in the bathroom. He brings it back, then goes back into the bathroom to pee. When he comes back out, he sits on the end of Max's bed, by Max's feet. 

"You okay?" Daniel asks. 

Max doesn't shake his head. He hasn't been okay for a very long time, but he's holding on. He's holding on so tight it's making his fingers bleed. 

"I'm fine," Max says. He doesn't look away, not until Daniel does. 

"Think he'll fall asleep?" 

Bastiaan's eyes are already drooping. Max strokes his cheek. His lovely little baby. 

"Yeah," he says. "At some point."

"You're doing great, you know. He's perfect."

Max has been lying for such a long time. One more won't hurt. 

"Everything is good," he says. "Go back to bed."

"In a minute," Daniel says. "When he's sleeping."

They sit there, quiet in the middle of the night, until Bastiaan falls asleep. 

Max looks away first. 

[thelimalimon]

ZombieOutbreak!Ghostxreader

A/N: Just me writing my favorite ship dynamic again (this started as some context for a scene I had in mind and then... it turned into this)

You never thought you'd end up on a militar plane, but knowing the reason why you were there on the first place, there was no way you could enjoy it. You didn't even care that there were no windows to look through, after all, the view was quite depressing; the roads, filled with crashed cars that hadn't been moved for weeks, showed how desperate people were to escape the mess that the zombie outbreak had brought.

Tightening the grip on your seat belt, feeling the harsh hold that it had on you, the things around you still looked unreal; the lights poorly lightened the big space inside the plane, currently filled with food, supplies, and what was harder to find this days; human resources.

The soldiers, sat next to the exit seemed unbothered. You hoped they were as calm a they seemed to be, as that made you to stay calm too.

"Stop worrying about them. They won't get to us up here" you heard the lieutenant saying, suggesting you that maybe you didn't look as calm as you thougt you did.

"We'll eventually have to land"

"That's why we are here, with you... and your team" was his answer. He always acted as if everything was so easy. Maybe it was for him. Maybe that was the reason why this man had been chosen to lead the group in charge of protecting the scientists, and, as part of them, you. You didn't even know his name, as he has only ever introduced himself as Ghost. And, even if it made you curious to know what his real name was, in these day and age finding that answer was the last of your concerns, after all, as part of the recruited scientists, your priority was finding a cure, a vaccine, or whatever was necessary to put a stop on this.

You had forgot your conversation with the lieutenant until you saw him taking a hand to his ear. It was not imposible to understand that someone was talking to him. Maybe you had only met the lieutenant for a few weeks, but it had been enoght to learn the subtle changes in his posture and the way he clenched his jaw under his mask that you knew there were no good news.

"We're changing the route" the lieutenant said, talking to his men, but of course, the rest of the scientists and you looked at him too, as there was no other thing to do besides worrying to death. "We're heading towards a near camp as the Bhurtpore Barracks has fallen."

They should give you a price for the sole fact that you didn't get into a panic attack; the Bhurtpore Barracks was supposed to be the safest one remaining in the country. What was now left for them now that they were going to an improvised camp? You didn't know what was ahead, but at least, you could say that the camp looked like the ones in alien invasion movies, as here and there the tents had been planted in the field; the grass gone time ago thanks to the frenetical actiity around the camp, from cars to soldiers that moved quickly and precisely, like if this was any normal day. But it wasn't. It hadn't been for anyone in the last weeks since the outbreak started.

Shortly after you arrived, you were headed towards the improvised lab that was being prepared for the researching team; a white tent, again, just like the ones in alien movies.

"Is E.T. gonna be inside?" You tried to joke, and, at least, you could take a scoff out of the lieutenant.

"Why don't you look out for him? Maybe that glowing finger is gonna solve this whole mess."

At least he was up for some bad jokes, and that was something you were gratedul for, even if it was not for long, as someone called the lieutenant who was quickly back to work and just said goodbye with a quick nod that you didn't have time to give back. Now, all that was left was to start working with... whatever you had here. So, it was no surprise that the rest of the afternoon was spend setting up the improvised lab, just to go to sleep as soon as the night arrived, but as the darkness kept growing, sleeping looked further and further. The idea of ging out was not nice, but under that plastic roof you started to feel like you were on a body bag, like the thousands you have been opening since the search for a cure had started.

It took no time to leave the tent, hugging yourself when you were met with the cold breeze, as you looked at the night sky. You knew it was still the same, but even the night view had changed; the stars glowed with more intensity, and you sweared you had never seen more in the same niight during your life. It was expected, as the luminic contamination had descended.

"You wanna get shot?" You heard a familiar voice, but that didn't stop from getting startled.

"What kind of offer is that?" Your blood rush was evident in your voice, high and shaky, as you entorned your eyes, trying to see better in the dark.

"No one who wants to stay alive is outside at night in a place full of armed soldiers."

"Fair point" but, even if it was, you couldn't help but need to be outside. "But I can't sleep."

"Been there" he answered, fixing the hold on his firearm, before looking back at you. "Still, you should go back to the tent. The others won't..."

The gunshots shutted him up, stopping you from hearing the end of the sentence.

It took you a few second to understand what could be happening. Some rookie had fired by accident? Someone was hunting some animal with a rifle? Maybe two soldiers got into a fight? While thinking of everything excepting for the obvious, you found yourself being pulled away by Ghost.

"Fuck! Move!" He shouted, taking you by the arm and dragging you to... some where. It was dark, and without night vision lens like his, you were mostly lost while followong him. You begged to not trip and fall down right now, or worse, getting attacked, because even if you couldn't see them, you coul hear them; the grunts and growls were easy to recognize, just like the screams of those who had been attacked.

A drouned yelp left your mouth as Ghost turned back to shot a bunch of zombies that were seconds away from attacking you two. This was so much like the first week of the outbreak, and that terrified you.The only thing you had clear was that you should keep runing.

You couldn't tell how much you had run away, or where you were; all you knew was that you were deep in the forest, as the branches that you were breaking while walking and the trees that got in your way could tell.

"What...?" You couldn't believe what had happened. It must be some nightmare, right? You had been trying to sleep a few minutes... or hours ago.

"Calm down" Ghost said, but your heavy breathing was evidence that words were not enough. You felt how he took you by your shoulders and, squeezing them, talked again in a surprinsingly soft voice. "Luv, you hear me? Remember what I told you back at the plane? That's what we are here. That's why I'm here. To keep you safe. So, calm down and make this easier for me."

You nodded, more as a reflex rather than after understanding, but that seemed to be enough for him, as he finally let you go.

"Now, let's keep moving. We need to find somewhere else to be."

"Yeah... sure" you were quick to answer, still feeling like your heart was leaving your chest. You were not used to be in the field, as even as a researcher, you were a staying at the lab all day type. "Sorry, it's my first time... doing this."

"What? Surviving a zombie apocalypse?" He asked, that mockful tone coming back even in this situation. He looked up at the sky, confirming once again that it was pitch black, meaning it would take some more hours for the sun to come, before lookkng back to you. "It's everybody's first."

***

By the time you woke up it was early in the evening. Your eyes, still heavy from tiredness, had a difficult time realizing what was going on; the improvised shelter greeted you, but Ghost was nowhere to be seen, and, for a second, you thought he had left you alone in the middle of nowhere.

You looked around, trying not to panic, as you quickly got up and out, finding yourself under the gray sky before you saw Ghost, looking at a package that you two had opened and eaten last night; it was one of those army lunches that the soldiers carried around in cases of emergency like this.

"It's our first day and we are running out of food" he said before you could ask something, looking back at you.

"Not the best news to wake up to, to be honest" you said, passing a hand through your hair, knowing pretty well the dangers (and the time) that meant to keep traveling by foot while looking for food at the same time..

"That's why I tried to let you sleep for longer" and then, taking a knife out of one of his pockets, handed it to you. "In case you need it."

"Thanks" you said, not so sure how to take that. Of course you didn't want to be in a situation were you'll need it, but you still needed to have one.

"Next step is finding a place for the night and then..." you looked at the same direction as him, finding a zombie getting out of the trees, slowly walking towards you. "It seems we have some company."

Looking at them outside a lab environment was somethkng you couldn't get used to, but fortunately, Ghost walked towards it, a knife in hand, but just as he was about to attack the zombie his arm made whatt looked like an involuntary movement, almost spasmodic, making him let the knife go.

Probably he would've had the situation under control if you hadn't run towards the zombie, holding one of the riffles that Ghost had left on the ground, using it as a bat to hit the zombie again and again. But you couldn't help it, not when so many theories were running around your mind. Still, you didn't need to kill the undead, as Ghost, with a quick shot, took him down, leaving you with the riffle swinging in the air, in an interrumped hit.

"You didn't have to do that" but you didn't care about it. You looked at him, still wishing you were overreacting and it was just an innofensive muscle cramp.

You took a step towards him and raised your finger in front of his eyes, wanting this test to be negative. "Follow it."

At first he looked confuswd, but at soon as he realizwd what this was about he started walking away without looking back at you. Great. He was going to make this difficult.

"Lieutenant!"

"Stop with this bullshit"

You grunted, frustrated that he was not letting you take care of this, as you only needed to look once at the zombie laying down in the ground, with a puddle of thick dark blood around the bullet wound for a terrorific image to appear in your mind; that could have been Ghost, laying there. You'll have to keep inssting.

"I'll stop when I'm sure there is nothing to worry about."

"Well, stop worrying. There's nothing to worry about" his voice was stern and sharp like a knife, one that yould easily picture being pointed at you, making you wonder if he was actualy scared about it. You would be if you were him.

"You can't decide that."

That's when he finally turned back at you, clenched fists and a furious look meeting your worried self. "Just shut up and listen to me" It was the first time he talked at you in that way, and now, you could understand how he had gotten were he was, but now was not a time to act like a coward.

He seemed to doubt, almost like considering if he had gone a bit far. "I told you I'll keep you safe, and that's what I'll do. Again, make this easier for me."

As he turned his back on you and keep walking, you were left there, feeling stupid while holding a riffle that you barely remember how to use.

You cleared your throat; you couldn't blame him, as everyone was on their nerves since the outbreak started, but you wouldn't let this slide. Even less as it was about him.

"You don't have to do this" you said, trying not to sound too hurt. You didn't have the right. "I can't... fight, take down zombies or... do the things you do, but I want to return the favor and take care of you too, okay? Is that too much to ask?"

His answer came in the lack of one, as the silence was filled only with his steps. He didn't even care to look back at you and see if you were following him.

But you did, to the point you were enough to take him by his arm, your hand met with thousands of layers of thick clothes, and finally he looked back at you.

"You're going to let me check you, youre going to cooperate, and you'll let me take care of it, understood?" Your grip was firm, but still, nothing that he couldn't get away from.

You actually expected him to do it.

He didn't.

"Just do it quick."

You didn't need to hear him. At first you had been so insistent to know if it was what you thought, but now that you could actually have the answer... you didn't want it. But you had to look for it.

"Show me."

He understood what you meant. After taking all the layers of clothes that were on the way he showed you; starting from his neck to the base of his shoulder a scratch was turning into an ugly green. One that you had seen all the times in the wounds thst had turned people part of the undead.

"This happened recently. When did you get it?"

"The night we ran away from the camp."

That night the zombies had attacked you from everywhere, and if he had been alone, probably he would have left sooner. Maybe that meant he had gotten it when he had been helping you get away. Maybe, if he hadn't take you with him he wouldn't... "Knowing that, helping you it's the least I could do."

He sighed and looked back at you, tired eyes metting your worried ones. "There's nothing you can do, luv. At least, not now, and not for me."

You hated he was right, but for this time, you wouldn't tell him that, at least, not directly. "It won't stop me from trying" you were already starting to clean the scratch trying to, at least, avoid an infection that would worsen the one that surely would be expading by now. "We can have this conversation for as long as you wantt, but you should know by now that I'm as stubborn as you."

When he seemed relieved after hearing your words you couldn't help but smile, even if you were terrified of the fact that you will have to help him get through this, already knowing how it will end. You have seen it so many times at the lab that you could classify this as stage one following the score imposed by what remained of the goverment; the first signs of compromised nervous function were already there, with easily missed spasmodics movements, anormalities in pupil reaction, and you could go on, but the diagnosis wouldn't have changed even if you had decided to do a lab test; the spreading infection started at the scratch, but most importantly; Ghost had been right. There was nothing you could do besides taking care of him the best way you could.

But that was the last time you two touched the subject.

"There's no time for that when I need to get you at the closest base" was what he had said the last time you tried to bring back the topic. And soon, you learned that, to take care of him, he'll let you do it as long as you didn't named it like what it was.

And it hurted. Like now, where you could see how the few zones of his skin that were exposed were slowly turning gray; how his eyes were getting lost in the distance: how he asked you to wait for him while he got lost for longer periods of time. You assumed he just wanted some time alone, and to be honest, you couldn't say no.

"We're parting ways here" he said, one morning, after you two had breakfast; or at least you had had, as he had been refusing to it for the last few days, labeling as innecessary.

You were about to protest with something that would probably be the most stupid excuse ever, but he didn't let you try it.

"You, more than anyone else, know what will happen. I don't want you to see it" he pulled something from his neck and then handed it to you.

You were confused at first, but then you realized he had given you his dogs tags; in them the name Simon Riley was getting blurry by the pass of time, and you... didn't want this to be the way it would end.

"You know I don't want to make this difficult for you, lieutenant, but... you're not making this easier for me neither" you said, firmly, while your hands clenched around the dog tags, trying to hide how much they were shaking.

"That's why I'm giving them to you" he walked towards you, and you could see how evident it was that his movements were turning stiff and hard to control. "Show them when you arrive at the base and tell them you were with me. They'll let you in."

You felt like breaking down in tears at any moment, from sadness to fear, but you'll have to be strong, at least, for him.

"I'll do" you nodded, not sure if you could. "But I expect to see you around there too. You'll be the first to... get the cure as soon as it works."

Was it a childish dream? Sure, but, what was left in a world where the impossible must be done every day? But you knew you were not too wrong when he agreed, with a nod. "See you later, luv."

You couldn't help but hug him, tight, trying not to pour your whole heart in it.

He hug you back, for a few seconds, and then, he left.

***

Even if you imagined that day would come, you couldn't believe it had happened so soon. Weeks ago you were arriving at the camp site, and now you had been three days by your own, and it was enough to feel lik you were losing your mind. What were you suppose to do now? It was not the fact that you two had been taking care of each other; it was also because, now, you were truly alone, as no matter who else may get in your way, because you were sure you wouldn't be able to trust them. No if you wanted to stay alive.

Now, the question was how to do it? For how long you could?

Fuck... who cared about that? You wanted him back. You wanted to be able to walk next to Simon, trying to light each other's mood with a joke worse than the last one, with him hissing every time you cleaned the wound, how he would stay awake, even if you assured him it was your turn to be on watch when the night fell over you two. When the world had come down he had been there for you, and now, he had been taken away, and it had been all your fault.

Was your crying what attracted a nearbie zombie? You didn't know. But what you did knew, when you saw the zombi getting coser, was that you should run as fast as you could hoping that, with a little bit of luck the zombie would be left behind.

But you wanted to? Was it worth it? Even if you made it to the camp, nothing would assure you that it was still there, or even if they'll let you in, with or without Simon's dog tags.

By the time you thought about it, the zombie had launched towards you, giving you time enough to close your eyes. Maybe you'll meet Simon sooner than what you had thought. But the attack never arrived.

When got enough courage to open your eyes, you found an unexpected image; the zombie that had tried to attack you was already on the ground, with someone tearing his skin up, painting with his blood the leaves on the ground with a dark red.

For a few secons, you could onlly hear the grunts of the remaining zombie that eventually got up; and there was Simon, tall and dangerous as always, but this time he was on the other side of the gun... a gun you didn't dare to raise, and even less, point at him. This was not how you had expected to meet again. But you were not the same person, just as he would never be, no matter what you two had promised to each other.

He walked towards you, his steps heavy, just as your heart.

"Simon, please... Stay back" it hurted that the first time you got to call him for his actual name he wouldn't be able to answer. At least, not the way you would've wanted to.

He didn't stop, neither showed any sign that he had understand you. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were not expecting him to be the first zombie you'll have to shot.

It didn't matter; he was close enough for you to be able to smell the blood that was dropping from his mouth. And once again, you just stayed there, not being able to do anything more than fill your eyes with tears that tried to soothe your aching heart.

Simon got closer, and closer, and closer until you could feel his breath on you; you thought this was the end, that he'd launch towards you and make you his next meal, as he had done with the other zombie. But he didn't. He just stayed there, almost sniffing you, as a low growl left his throat every now and then.

"Simon...?" you tried calling him, and, this time, it actually caught his attention, as he stopped sniffing you around and instead met your eyes too. Was this an hallucination? Something that you wanted to see so bad that your mind was making for you? Even if it was just an illusion you were willing to take it.

Your mind went back to the zombie he had taken down and gave him a sad smile, looking at the bloody mess he was now. "Thanks for coming back for me."

Maybe he remembered what he had told you; that he was there, with you, and that'll make sure you'd be safe.

And when he growled back, in something that almost sounded like a answer, you knew that if you were losing your mind, at least he was the best one to do it with.

[lenorenevermore99]

Hwang In-ho: is he Redeemable?

I've noticed people are way too polarizing when it comes to Hwang In-ho's character. They either see him as just a psychopath with zero humanity and zero potential for redemption (looking at you, reddit) or this little traumatized meow meow who only did bad things because he's suffering.

But things are never that simple.

A few things I want to address in this meta post:

Where Gi-hun and In-ho are different

Why he became the Frontman (in my opinion)

His possibility for Redemption

In-ho is a very complex character, and I'll try to break it down in this post with the limited information we have.

Where he and Gi-hun are different

We all know the similarities between Gi-hun and In-ho. We know that In-ho himself sees his past self in Gi-hun. While they are similar in many aspects, I think they are fundamentally different.

Now, we don't really have In-ho's complete backstory. We know he had a pregnant, sick wife who died. We know has had a half-brother and a step-mother. We know he was a cop and that he lost his job.

I want to focus on this point in particular because, as I see it, this is where Gi-hun and In-ho are fundamentally different.

Gi-hun first worked in a factory, then as a shopkeeper, then as a chauffeur. For all we know, before becoming the Frontman, In-ho only ever worked as a cop, which is a job that can require you to kill.

Likely, he was already a murderer way before entering the games. Which is why, he tells Gihun that he knows that's blood money, but it doesn't matter to him if that's what it takes to save his wife and child. He went into the games the first time, ready to kill because he had already killed before. While Gi-hun, who had a pretty regular job before, was only ready to kill when pushed to the limit. And even then, he refused to do it.

But this guy? This guy never had any hesitation.

I'm not saying being a cop made him a bad person (before the games), even Jun-ho is a cop and he killed people too without hesitation; first when he infiltrated the island, and then to escape.

But he's not a good person either. This is another thing where he and Gi-hun differ. We know from the latter's backstory (the strike, the rebellion) that he puts collective needs above individualistic needs. You would think that a cop would do the same, but given the things he was willing to do to save his wife, I think it's safe to say he's pretty selfish in that regard.

It wasn't the game that changed him, it wasn't the game that traumatized him and made him this ruthless, calculating game master; he was already like that. Someone like Gi-hun, someone idealistic who values human life, would never become the Frontman, it doesn't matter how much they're hurt and traumatized.

The games didn't turn him into a cold-blooded murderer, the games took away the only light and hope he had in life, turning an already ruthless man into a ruthless man with nothing to lose.

Why he became the Frontman (in my opinion)

In-ho was a cop. A job that gives you control, gives you power over others. But when his wife got sick, when he was dragged into the games the first time, he lost control over his life.

I think that, just like Gi-hun, In-ho was unable to go back to his normal life. He was unable to look at his mother and brother in the eyes after everything he had done. Especially since the reason he did all that in the first place, his wife and child, was gone.

He couldn't go back to his family, he couldn't go back to his job, so he went back to the only place where he could have some sort of control. He couldn't control what happened in his life, he couldn't control the circumstances that lead him to the games, but he could control the games now.

All that bullshit about fairness is just what he tells himself to feel better, but the only reason he became the Frontman was because that role gave him some semblance of control over his own life. The very one he had lost.

And this is what drastically reduces his possibilities for redemption, because his reasonings were pretty selfish, and completely avoidable.

Possibility for Redemption?

I do believe there's still some humanity in him. I've seen people say that he doesn't give a fuck about Jun-hee, that if he did he wouldn't have recruited her in the first place. Which is crazy to me, because it's not like he recruits every single person himself, he has employees that do that and keep files on the players. He only ever goes to check those files when he needs to. Like during the glass bridge, he didn't know that player was a glass-maker until he checked his file, just like he didn't know Jun-hee was pregnant before she went to Gi-hun's team to ask for help.

Personally, I think there's no way he'll ever let Jun-hee die. I think whatever's left of his humanity is buried deep inside him, but it's still there. And Jun-hee might be the key to bringing it to the surface.

When it comes to redemption, I cannot see any other redemption for this character that isn't through sacrifice. Whether he sacrifices himself to save Jun-hee, or his brother, or Gi-hun, or to stop the games, that is the only way he could ever atone for what he has done. Because frankly, he doesn't deserve a happy ending. He doesn't deserve to return to his family and be happy when all the people who died in the games couldn't. But self-sacrifice would be a beautiful wrap-up on his character; In-ho finally understanding that humans can make selfless choices, coming to realize the error of his ways, would be a beautiful ending for him.

But of course, this is just my opinion.

[smoulderingocean]

"I don't get to have what I want."

Out of all the sad, heartbreaking, soul crushing things Nick has said, I think this has to be the worst of them all. Because it isn't just about wanting but not getting to be with June or being a good man. It's about his whole life, where nothing has gone well and where he has rarely gotten what he needs, never mind what he wants.

He didn't get the healthy, happy start in childhood that he needed and wanted. He wanted a family, but it was torn apart by violence, poverty, addiction, and abandonment. His mother wanted him to go to school, and Nick himself seems to long for education, but it never happened because his mother left and then the Sons of Jacob took over. He just wanted to support his family, but was recruited in by a destructive cult and everything fell apart.

Then he gets to Gilead. He keeps his head down, depriving himself of the human contact and connection he longs for so deeply. Eventually he meets June and falls in love with her. He wants a normal relationship with her if she wants it as well, but it's immediately stained by Serena forcing them to reproduce. June does choose to be with him and they have something beautiful for a time, but his own fears about them both ending up on the wall put a temporary pause on things as he withdraws even though he doesn't really want to do that. June becomes pregnant with their child and he helps to send them away to safety (trying more than once) knowing he'll probably never see them again even though all he wants is to be a family. Nick wants to marry June, that much is very clear, but he is married off to someone else against his will, not just once, but twice. Nick wants to be a good father, but is never given the opportunity to do so in the active, present way that he truly wants- not with Holly or Hannah or even with this coming child with Rose. I think one secret wish that Nick has carried, one so deep down that he barely even allows himself to think of it, is to not just be a family with June, Hannah, and Holly, but to grow and expand that family by having another baby. Instead he has no choice but to have a child with a woman from a dangerous family that he doesn't want to be with and that brings out all sorts of difficult, complicated feelings that bring up his own childhood trauma and make it seem even less likely that he gets to be the good man that he wants to be.

Nick has wanted to be safe and good for as long as he's been alive, but the world hasn't made it easy or even possible at times, so it's no wonder that when he's at his absolute lowest, down deeper and darker in the trenches than he ever has been in his life, that he cannot see it as something remotely possible.

Nick's lack of belief in ever getting what he wants isn't him wallowing in self-pity, it's him admitting what he believes to be completely true: his life has been a never-ending barrage of disappointments and he doesn't expect it to change, so he's going to survive by keeping his head down. By verbalizing that he doesn't ever get what he wants, even just the simplicity of being a good man, then he believes he cannot be hurt when it does not happen as he does not allow for himself to even hope for the possibility. It is such a particularly sad way to live as Nick is denying himself all the joys and connections and hope that makes life more than just surviving.

Which is why that is going to change: Nick is going to get what he wants for a rare change, and not only that, but it will be in a way that gives him hope and allows for him to reach his full potential as someone who is good, kind, and brave.

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about The Next Prince (EP 2): Father-Son relationship and identity crisis.

There is much to say about the latest episode of The Next Prince. I want to focus on the identity crisis Khanin is actually living right now. Obviously it comes first from the discovery of being the heir of a royal family from another country. Until now, Khanin had no idea about his royal lineage. He knew he had Emmalian origin because his step-father was from this country, but I think from what we've seen, Khanin never really saw himself as Emmalian. He didn't face blurred lines of cultural identity, intellectual divide or not having a sense of who he is (as far as we've seen from his flashbacks). Khanin was raised with Emmalian culture at home because his step father taught him the language, he ate traditional food from the country and learned about the history of Emmaly. I also think his interest in fencing was probably inspired by his father who wanted him to know how to do it because it's a famous sport in Emmaly, at least for royalty (and something he may have to use to fight for the throne later in the story). Outside home, I believe Khanin grew up like any other English children. However, I think this is going to be a challenge when he is back in Emmaly.

This idea is reinforced by the comment Ramil made to Ava after their fencing session. One can know how to speak well or know the traditional and cultural aspects of the country, but if you were raised, at one point, outside of the country, some part of them will still not be fully understandable for you. I believe this is something that some children face when they visit or go back to live in the country where their parents came from. Despite Prince Chana's statement to Prince Rachata that Ava and Ramil are friends because they knew each other from childhood, I still think Ramil views himself as "better" for two reasons. Firstly, he is a man (and it puts him first on the succession to the throne) and secondly he was born and raised in Emmaly. Obviously, when Khanin is going to compete with them, this is going to be an issue. I don't know how they will represent it, but Khanin will have to find his place. While it is going to be a time of challenging thoughts and emotions for our main character, his identity crisis can also be a time of positive personal growth and change. As long as he keeps around him trusting people, he will be able to overcome the inherent challenges of his identity crisis. No doubts, Charan will be essential for this, as he is the only person he can rely on.

However, most importantly, I believe the identity crisis, Khanin is facing comes from the knowledge that he now knows his father isn't his biological father, but someone who was tasked to protect and to raise him. There is a very strong bond between Khanin and his step-father. He was raised with love and learning that it may just have been a job for him is putting Khanin into a very complicated turmoil of emotions. It is reinforcing the identity crisis he is feeling, on top of having to escape assassination and being a prince. I believe he is feeling betrayed more by discovering Thatdanai isn't his biological father, than discovering he is in fact a prince. It is shattering his core beliefs. I think the father-son relationship is a very important narrative in this series. As Khanin was raised in a single parent's home his personal construction of beliefs was influenced by his father. So now that Thatdanai isn't his real father, who is he? I hope the story will give Khanin the time to accept that you don't need to be biologically related to feel like you're a family. I wonder how he will react when he is going to meet his real father. Will he have an instant bond with him (which I don't think will happen) or will he reject him? How will it affect his relationship and view of his step-father? I'm glad Charan comforted him when Khanin voiced his fear about the fact he maybe have never been loved by his step-father. He told him that as for what he has seen Thatdanai truly loves Khanin. This belief will be essential for Khanin to be able to bounce back.

I truly hope Thatdanai isn’t dead yet and will reappear when needed to give Khanin the force he needs to overcome the upcoming challenges in Emmaly. As for his biological father, I want to see them slowly build a good relationship. It will never truly be the same as the bond Khanin has with Thatdanai, but it will probably help him learn more about his family and himself. It’s part of the journey Khanin needs to take to be able to overcome his identity crisis.

[sailorspica]

suit of cups | iv

basil hawkins x f!reader, childhood friends/crewmates canon au. selfship; reader is an astrologer and explicitly racialized while he isn't. prequel to the stars have all gone. 1.6k words.

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x.

Of course you'd grow apart. You spent more time on your family's fishing rigs, sailing without him, and Hawkins found a friend in a tan cat mink. Faust was sixteen, like him, and Hawkins took the role of newcomers' guide that you once did. When you joined them, you and Faust pored over books the cat's parents collected while living in one of the North Blue's larger, more developed cities. Faust called them grimoires and good-naturedly defended against your questions about their origins and methods. Hawkins couldn't tell if you liked each other at all, but together you made an odd trio of teenagers with no choice for company but each other.

Or so he thought.

You stayed ashore more often as salmon season turned to halibut. As soon as Faust came over one especially foggy morning, the pair of boys started uphill to fetch you for a day of spellcasting and divination only to hear the familiar shriek of your laughter float up behind them—something they knew not to expect if you were only with your family. Hawkins followed Faust's gaze to the sight of you joined at the elbow with a girl.

That didn't make any sense. You didn't get along with girls just like Hawkins didn't get along with boys. Except for Faust. You were too rough and smelled too much like fish and no one had the patience for your stargazing and lectures that he did. Yet here you were.

He recognized the girl and the particular dirty blond of her hair from around the docks, so she must also come from seafaring stock. She noticed Hawkins and Faust before you did, and stopped in her tracks. You looked up, surprised. "Oh! I didn't know you were coming."

"I didn't know you needed warning," Hawkins said stiffly.

"Um." You seemed to hesitate, then unlinked your arm. "I can go from here. Thank you for inviting me."

The girl looked between him and Faust. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

To your credit, or in Hawkins' hopes, you said it coolly, with a knife's edge. You were fourteen and vibrant and tolerated offense no less than he did. As soon as the girl disappeared over the horizon, you smacked Hawkins in the funny bone. "Ow!"

"Sorry. I thought that was lower." You didn't sound sorry at all. "Can't you be a little friendly?"

"I barely said anything."

"Exactly. People think that's rude."

"Since when do you care what people think?"

"This is why my family doesn't like you."

"But you don't like your family."

You huffed, arms crossed. "Hi, Faust."

"Hi…" the mink returned awkwardly. That's when Hawkins noticed, in your hand opposite the one you'd hooked into that girl's, the handles of a large straw basket out of which peeked the edge of the quilt he recognized from your room.

"Did you spend the night?"

"Yes, it's called a sleepover."

"What's so special about that?"

"I've never been before."

"Yes, you have."

"That's not a sleepover. That's… we're too tired to move."

"So you slept over." Why call it something? You used to do so all the time, but something changed in the last year or two. Your parents went to church in town now while your grandparents refrained. They'd always been warmer toward him, anyway, and even as their memory and vision went Hawkins remembered their fantastical tales from the Grand Line of crocodilian sea kings and Devil Fruit users with great fondness.

"This is a planned thing, for girls. I've never braided another girl's hair before."

"What's wrong with braiding mine? That's how you learned, anyway." It was past his shoulders now. He liked that it kept his neck warm and how you played with it, or used to.

"You don't notice anything different about me?" you said dangerously.

Hawkins blinked, and inspected your face, tilted up toward his. He was almost a head taller than you now. Apparently, his father stood over two meters in height and towered far above his mother. All he saw when he looked at you was the familiar flush of anger in your cheeks and neck, your brows drawn downward and your teeth biting into your lower lip the way they did when you tested him, usually over planetary rulerships.

"You look tired," he offered. "Not much of a sleepover."

You tossed your hair over your shoulder with such force it whipped him in the face. "Girls want to hear their hair is pretty, Hawkins. It's in Dutch braids, you moron."

So that's why it landed like a two-inch rope, and flew behind your head like two hissing snakes as you ran uphill away from him.

Faust amused himself with the knitting basket in Hawkins' living room while Hawkins stared, annoyed, at the spread in front of him. It was full of court cards, but most glaringly what he'd come to think of as one of your cards, The Star.

Hawkins didn't think he needed to say your hair was the prettiest thing in the world to him. Black like a crow's wing, he thought when he saw it lately, and the scarecrows he made seemed more of an omen than any card. Black like the night sky, and on and near the full moon he could see the stars reflected in your eyes when you told him about constellations and named stars and their legends, Algorab in Corvus representing a sun god. Your hair curled like ocean currents with humidity and stayed straight in the winter, and as much as he liked Faust, he missed being younger and alone with you.

He thought saying so would embarrass you like you blushed after telling him his hair was pretty, like you always had. But the Ace of Swords at the top of the Celtic cross's tree told him what was missing between you two was words.

That, and Faust saying, "Instead of the cards, you could talk to her."

So Hawkins leaned against the stone fence surrounding your family's yard, keeping one eye on your bedroom window for light and another on refining his current iteration of straw dolls. He read in one of Faust's books about figural proxies for enemies made out of clay, and the dolls he'd idly made his whole life took on new purpose. They needed to be simple but still recognizably humanoid, and small enough to hide in his arm, though he could make any part of his body into straw. He knew his powers unsettled your mother and father, but there was precious little else he could do since they hated tarot more.

"Natulog siya," one of the many elders milling in and out said to him, and he understood despite not being able to respond.

Eventually, the shutters on your window opened and you called down to him, "Stay there." It was almost twilight then, and he was getting hungry. You emerged with your hair damp and loose from a bath, a steamer basket, and two spoons. "Well?"

"I'm sorry," Hawkins said quickly.

"For?"

Damn it. "I don't know, but your feelings are hurt, and I don't want to be the reason." The Queen and King of Cups were both in the spread, more sage and articulate in this realm than either of you.

You set the bamboo basket down on the fence, and the smell of sticky rice and sweet sausage wafted into his face as you took of the lid and stabbed a spoon into it like a knife for him to grab. "You're so full of yourself," you chided. He stuck a spoonful of rice in his mouth and waited for you to elaborate. You met his eye and relented. "It's not only you."

He swallowed. "Did she do something?"

You shook your head. "It's the others. And you didn't help."

Others. Come to think of it, he didn't ask you any more about the night you had or whether you had any fun at all, who was there besides the girl who accompanied you home, why you didn't tell him beforehand, why you even went.

"Tell me."

Ultimately, the townspeople treated you and Faust the same, nevermind your family's not insignificant history on the island. Your mother had a new obsession with correcting this, likely prompted by your friendship with the mink, and pushed for you to befriend churchgoing children even as you stayed home or avoided the ordeal at sea or at his house. It only made sense for you to attach to the only other girl from a fishing family.

"They suck, Hawkins, and they kept asking about you and—" Your face went red, and he couldn't imagine why. He knew he had a reputation as a heretic and something of a brawler, how he fared in fights now since his growth spurt. "I didn't like them braiding my hair."

Now he was really confused. You were so prissy and proud of those braids, but even with the fragrant spices of the meal you shared, he smelled your shampoo, stronger than usual, like you'd scrubbed your scalp raw.

Despite his uncertainty, he braced his hands on the stone fence and swung himself over.

"What—"

Hawkins pulled you into his arms, awkwardly, still unused to the size of the hand that nearly dwarfed the back of your head, and your spoon fell onto the gravel.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

After a moment, you nodded against his collar.

"No one's going to touch you without you wanting it ever again," he said firmly.

"…You don't know that." It was a mumble, but he understood.

"Let me try."

You uncurled your arms from against his shirt and slid them under his elbows, holding him in turn. "Okay."

[angellily920]

Sideline Hearts (Ch.1)

Pairing: John Walker x reader (College AU)

Word Count: About 1k

Warnings: None

A/n: I'm actually SO excited to write this series. Hope you like it!

Chapter 1

The shower head sputtered, a few drops of water shooting out before just giving up. You groaned and fiddled with the knob, hoping, praying the shower head would work. Nothing. You groaned and leaned against the wall. You really needed a shower before going to your photography interview. Taking a deep breath, you decided your best bet would be to ask your neighbor, though you haven't actually met them yet, you hoped they would be nice. You couldn't exactly score the best housing while in college, but it was better than living on campus. Throwing some things into a bag, you went over to ask your neighbor if you could use their shower...Nothings's awkward unless you make it awkward, right?

Nah, it was totally awkward, because when the weathered blue door of your neighbor opened, you would have never expected it to be John. Freaking. Walker. He looked tired. His dirty blonde hair was a mess, as if someone had run their fingers through it a little too much. And knowing Walker, it definitely wasn't his hands. His blue eyes fell on you, and you wanted to make a run for it, but his smooth voice came out before you could.

"Hey...we have calculus together, right?"

"Yup, we do." You tighten your grip on the bag strap slung over your shoulder.

He hums and leans against the door. "Thought I recognized you. And what did I do to receive the honor of your presence?"

"Oh, I was just..." You huff and decide to just go for it. "My shower isn't working and I was wondering if I could use your shower real quick."

John's eyebrows raise for a moment before his lips twitch and he starts to smirk. "So you wanna use my shower, huh?"

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. "Yes, that's exactly it."

"Okay princess." He stands up straight and opens the door more. "Be my guest."

When you entered his apartment, you expected it to be a mess, but it wasn't. Everything was neatly organized, and even the books on his shelf were color-coded. Neat freak? You didn't care to mention it and followed him to the bathroom. He told you how everything worked before stepping outside the door.

"If you need any help, don't hesitate to call my name." He winked, and you threw him a fake smile and two thumbs up before shutting the door.

~~~~~

You exited the bathroom just as John exited his bedroom, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt that seemed a size too small, causing you to stare at his chest a moment longer than you intended.

"You coming to the game this weekend?" He asked as you quickly shook your head.

"I wouldn't be caught dead at one of the games."

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, and his eyes seemed to sparkle. "Oh really? And why's that? Afraid you'll enjoy it too much?"

That elicits a scoff from you. "I have no intention of watching a bunch of guys get sweaty and tackle each other for some leather ball."

He hums and steps closer to you. "So you'd rather guys get sweaty and tackle people for other reasons?"

"No thanks." You make your way toward the door. "But thank you for letting me use your shower. I seriously appreciate it."

"Anytime princess." He walks you to the door and opens it. "You really wouldn't be caught dead at a game? Even just once?"

"Not my style."

John stands there for a moment, his eyes studying your face. He taps the door frame and lets out a breath of air. "Well, I think if you came to a game, you'd change your mind."

"Don't you have like a hundred fangirls in the stand already?"

That causes him to smile. "I am pretty popular. But the more the merrier, right?"

"Dream on, Walker."

His tongue juts out to wet his lips, and he hums again, soft and melodic. "Oh, I will. See ya around, princess."

You mock salute and shake your head as you turn around to head back to your apartment. Who would have thought you'd have a run in with the campus's hotshot football player? Well, you'd have to make a mental note to avoid him because you'd heard nothing but trouble where he was concerned. Best not to interact with him. You sighed and went inside to go finish up getting ready for your interview.

~~~~~

"Well, we do have an opening."

"Really? That's great!" You sat a bot more forward in your chair. "When can I get started?"

The woman behind the desk clinked a few things on her keyboard. "Well, it looks like they need a photographer for the football team this season. They have a game this weekend. You could start then."

You tried to hide your disappointment. "The football team? But I thought this interview was for the theater photographer position?"

"Do you want a job or not?" The woman didn't make eye contact and typed away on her computer.

"I...yes. I do."

"Perfect. I'll put you down as the football teams offical photographer."

"Great." You slumped a bit in your chair as she finalized it. Though it wasn't what you wanted, you did need the money, and a job was better than no job. Even if it was taking pictures of the sweaty football team. Now, all you had to do was think of something to say when John would inevitably comment on you being at a football game. You got this. What could possibly happen?

A/n: I'm used to writing Bucky so go easy on me! But I hope I can do John some justice.

Chapter 2

[angelltheninth]

Snowed In Together With Oliver Aiku

Pairing: Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, snowed in, only one bed, cuddling, teasing, warming up, neck kissing, sexual tension

Prompt: They hate each other. Of course they do. But now they’re snowed in at the same remote cabin. One bed. No signal. Nowhere to run from each other or their feelings. - List

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Saw these cute romance prompts and I wanted to write one for Oliver! Enjoy, comment, reblog, all that good stuff!

"Damn, it's still storming out there, doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon either." You looked out the window of the small, yet cozy cabin you found yourself stuck in. Actually this wouldn't be so bad if you weren't stuck with the most annoying man alive, Oliver Aiku. He wasn't annoying most of the time but today, in this situation? Yes, he was annoying. "Can't you call one of your teammates and at least let them know we're here?"

Oliver was completely calm, as opposed to you, he took many things as they came, he learned to. "I would but the blizzard is getting in the way of my signal. Either way someone will come looking for us by tomorrow. And the snow storm should settle." He smirked as he discarded his fluffy jacket onto the chair.

He wasn't panicking about this at all. How? You were supposed to meet up with everyone else further up the mountain, at the resort. Instead you got caught in an untimely snow storm and were forced to park the car and take shelter together. Good thing the power was still one, and if not there was enough wood to keep you warm for the night.

That wasn't your biggest problem. The biggest problem was that there was only one bed in the cabin. Barely big enough for two, and only one blanket. No sleeping bag or extra clothes.

"Do you really hate being stuck with me that badly? You're not my favorite person either you know, Miss Manager." Oliver poked you in your lower back, causing you to flinch at his touch. "Weren't you supposed to watch for the forecast today?" You blushed from the embarrassment of his words, it was true. 'So this is actually your fault. Unless this was all part of your plan to me alone with you?"

Before you could deny that absurd claim Oliver was already getting into bed. When did he take his shirt off?!

"What? You think I'm gonna stay up all night waiting, hoping for this to pass? I'm on vacation, I'm gonna sleep through all of this. Feel free to join me or don't?" He lifted the covers and waited for a few moments. When you didn't approach, just glared at him he rolled his eyes and turned to his side. "Okay, fine."

You went over your options, of which there weren't many. You could stay up all night and leave as soon as morning breaks, you could take the somewhat comfy armchair close to the fireplace, or you could get into bed with Oliver.

The last one was something you swore you would never do.

You were his team manager, it would look bad, for both of you. But... it was bound to get colder in here. Just for tonight you could take a hit to your pride.

After taking off most of your clothes, leaving only your underwear on, being in the same state of undress as Oliver, you lifted the covers and got under them quickly.

"Changed your mind, Miss Manager?" You could hear the confidence in his voice, dripping like sweet honey. "God, you have some soft boobs."

You were blushing again but for an entirely different reason that wasn't anger. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Well no but kind of hard not to when they're pressed right against my back." That back flexed just for you. You couldn't sleep like this, so you turned your back to him, hogging some of the blanket as you did. "Fine, I'll be the big spoon."

His arm draped itself over your middle and pulled you against his body, your legs tangling together. "Your feet are cold."

"Mhm, I'll get warmed up in no time." You glanced behind briefly, his mismatched green and black eyes slightly hooded, accompanied by a lazy smirk. "If you're so worried you could give me a hand."

"Keep talking and I'll kick you out of this cabin." The perv, the nerve of him to even suggest...!

"I don't think you will." That confidence was back full force as you felt his stubble scratching the back of your neck. "You know Miss Manager... if I'm stuck here for the night I'm glad it was with you. You're good good company like this."

"Good company?" You asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

"Yup. Nice to cuddle with an all that. I prefer a pretty woman in my bed than one of my teammates. You're much better company." A shiver bolted through your body when Oliver's lips pressed against the back of your neck, then at the side of it, then your shoulder, then the strap of your bra.

You gulped, tensing at the sensation his kisses sent through your body. "You're such a womanizer, Oliver."

"You don't seem to hate it right now. But I won't overstep, just keep you warm, deal?" He asked as he backed away slightly, his warm breath tickling the now wet patches of your skin.

"Y-Yeah." You didn't want to turn around and let him see how much you were blushing. He might be annoying sometimes but in this moment he cared about you, so you let him.

Even though you fell asleep with your back turned to him you still woke up snuggled up against him, your face close to his neck. "Well, morning." Oliver beamed, his face framed with the morning Sun shining through the window, no sign of a snow storm. "Care to give me a hand now?"

It took you a few moments to understand, or rather feel what he meant by that. "Pervert! Get your grabby hands off!" You pushed yourself away from him and fell off the bed, head down, legs dangling over the edge. Slightly spread. "Ow."

"That's quite the open invitation, very forward of you, Miss Manager." Oliver reached out and traced his finger across your thigh.

"Oh, shut up." You gathered yourself, your clothes and what was left of your dignity and stormed outside. "If you're not outside in 5 minutes I'm leaving without you!"

Oliver sighed but kept on smiling, "Gotta make this one quick then."

[mikayuumouse]

what do you think about atsushi's development with akutagawa after chapter 122?

Short answer: gay

Long answer: oh my God there's a lot. I will say, the latest chapters have definitely given us more Akutagawa introspection than Atsushi introspection, but Atsushi's character has definitely developed a LOT (well, I would say he's less developed right now and more as, we're finally seeing his development. Like I don't think just then in 121.5 did he decide Akutagawa is worth dying for, he had that realization/development forever ago, but in 121.5 is when lots of his development was confirmed)

This ask is specifically about chapter 122 but ykw I might as well talk about 121.5 and 123 too lmao. I think 121.5 was crazy revolutionary, like not only did it just show how much Atsushi will do to save Akutagawa, but it also shows that Atsushi remembers the exact words that Akutagawa said back to him with their fight against Fukuchi. Like wow fellas is it gay to think about your "dead" rival so much you can repeat his final dying words back to him in the middle of a war against a literal god??

Okay but all jokes aside, 121.5 does really show how much Atsushi thinks about Akutagawa and how heavy his death really was to him. (Also this ask only asks about Atsushi's development with Akutagawa and not the Headmaster so I won't be rambling on about that lol)

Now 122. Oh boy 122. Not only did Atsushi see Akutagawa's past, but this time he didn't see it/hear it from someone else's perspective. He saw the cold truth. He knew of Akutagawa's abuse, but now he knows how it really truly was, with his own eyes. The dark side of Dazai he's never really seen, the vulnerable side of Akutagawa that Akutagawa hates...

This really shifts their relationship. 122 had lots of development for both of them— especially with Akutagawa's introspection on his real feelings— and it's so monumental. This isn't just Atsushi seeing Akutagawa's abuse, it's Atsushi fully understanding Akutagawa and understanding why Akutagawa is the way he is. Atsushi relates to Akutagawa more than ever now, and he sees their similarities and where their paths individually changed them as people

One thing is, I don't think when Akutagawa finds out Atsushi knows about his past, that he'll be mad. He trusts his weak side with Atsushi, he trusts his truth and his secrets and his life with Atsushi. And vice versa.

These last few chapters have greatly furthered their relationship. And what I think about it is honestly; I love it. I love how Asagiri writes them (he better make them kiss like literally the romantic potential is perfect), I love how far they've come, and I love how they are incredibly meant for each other

Another thing is, now that Atsushi has seen Akutagawa's past, and Atsushi's understanding of Akutagawa is even deeper now, I think Atsushi is closer to Akutagawa because of this. Atsushi's seen all sides of Akutagawa's story, and in the end, he still cares for and loves Akutagawa. He still thinks Akutagawa is strong and deserves to live. When Atsushi eventually gets out of the fourth dimension (probably??) and he gets his reunion with Akutagawa, he's going to see Akutagawa in a different, better light

Oh, and in regards to 123, there's not a whole lot to say, but Atsushi says "Why us? Why our hearts?" to his hallucination of his Headmaster instead of "Why me? Why my heart?", because Akutagawa isn't an afterthought to Atsushi. Atsushi's going through all of this, and yet Akutagawa is not far from his mind; he never is. Akutagawa makes Atsushi feel no longer alone and gives him strength, and 123 shows that Atsushi thinks about Akutagawa as much as Akutagawa does about him

Thank you so much for the ask! It was fun to answer, and I hope my thoughts on Atsushi's development with Akutagawa make enough sense LMAO I kind of ramble

[spinchip]

So glad someone asked about Ninjago Finds the Way Home AU recently cuz I just found that and oh boy do I have questions, this au is so cool!! So, since the ninja never became a team, this means they never found the golden weapons, so the megaweapon and Garmadon's subsequent healing never happened. And since he's not there, and Zane was quickly sent to the dungeons by Chen, this means none of the other ninja are wary of Chen (minus Cole and Zane due to your previous post). This also means, besides Lloyd, none of them know Spinjitzu or have their True potentials. Does anyone unlock their true potential *during* the Tournament?

Oh!! Also cuz they don't have their true potential unlocked, does this mean Chen's spell is weakened in power? Or does it just take the power (no matter the skill level) as a baseline fuel? Cuz I'd imagine taking the literal Elements of Creation would be really powerful, but they're not as powerful as they could be.

Also, I'm very curious if Chen still gets to Kai in this, since in canon Chen mentions he knew Kai's parents. For Kai in this au, someone who wants to live up to his parents legacy of being blacksmiths and restoring their shop to glory, how would he take this info? You also said he wants to avoid the prophecy and that he's only here because of Nya, so does that mean he doesn't really use his powers or participate? Or does he still try? Also since I mentioned Lloyd earlier, what are the groups reactions to seeing a child in this Tournament? I know you said they warm up Lloyd and see parts of themself in him, but how does that go about happening? Sorry for all the questions, this au is just super cool! Hope you have a nice day!

Omg long ask thank you ! I'll put the reply under readmore aaa

You're right! At first, no one is that wary of Chen or Clouse. I think there might be a bit of "Wait, somethings not quite right." but it's pretty easily brushed off by attributing Chens strangeness to the fact he's a wacky reclusive billionaire. He says something a little off color and it's like well, he has been alone on this island for years so...? I guess that makes sense. I do think Zanes little outburst and dinner raised some eyebrows, and made some of the more attentive EMs a bit slower to trust the whole situation, but for the most part everyone thinks they're there to play the game and win the crown. no more no less. This AU would focus a lot more on clues and mystery and unraveling how everything is connected I think.

I didn't give much thought to true potential, but thinking about it now- I think only one ninja would unlock his TP during the events of the ToE, and it would be Kai. I think this version of Kai is really resistant to change and is very focused on him and nya vs the world. I think him reaching his true potential is when he accepts that he needs and WANTS to make outside connections, and accepts his role as part of something larger than himself. I think he would still reach it protecting Lloyd in some way! Perhaps he still gets his hand on the staff and feels that corruption, and ends up reaching TP by destroying it and giving everyone their powers back? Might have to workshop that one a little. What do you think?

Personally, I think that taking the powers no matter the skill level of the user will give Chen their Fully Recognized Power. It's not that the power isnt THERE, just that there's a mental block keeping them from accessing it. The staff doesn't really have an mental blocks so- full power from the moment they're stolen!

the question about Kai and Chen is really interesting. It's been too long since i've seen s4 i need to rewatch augh. Kai is really individualistic in this version of the story- he wants to take care of what's his and nothing else. i think Chen bringing up his parents would play into that, and I think Chen would bring up his parents earlier on to get Kai on his side earlier on. Though I don't think he would phrase it like he knows a Big Secret, just that he KNEW them, which would be enough for kai, who starved of any and all information on his parents. I don't think this would set off any alarm bells for Kai at first because Chen clearly has an interest in the elemental masters, so it's not that strange he knew his parents, right? But as things start to become more obviously nefarious Kai's willingness to listen to Chen would quickly sour. Especially once he realizes that Chen was fighting against his parents in the war. At first, though, he would be extremely interested in learning everything about them he can from Chen. ANd he might still use that interest to trick Chen into thinking he's on his side later on so he can act double agent and help the others from behind the curtain so to speak.

Kai doesnt have any idea about the prophecy at first, and he's kinda just of the mindset of like- I gotta get Nya and go home. there's a blacksmith shop to be run. i don't have time for this tournament stuff i JUST started getting good at the forge. But he's still a young man and i think the more he was around other EMs the more he's like OKAYYYY this could be fun. maybe. and heck, i'm stuck here... so why not try to win? For the heck of it? so he does end up participating a bit!

there's a collective thought bubble from everyone who sees Lloyd that basically boils down to "Man, I hope someone else eliminates him before I have to." WHICH IS TO SAY no one would actually try to hurt him, but they would try to defeat him in the tournament. There's a lot of money on the line, after all...

There's a lot of inertwined stuff that happens that leads to Lloyd becoming really important to the ninja team. I think the basic idea is that first the group as a whole takes him in when he's getting into trouble on the ferry ride to chens island, then Zane, who knows who Lloyd is, is keen on keeping an eye on him. He and Zane bond quick because Zane does not treat Lloyd like a child to his face (To elaborate, Zane isn't like unjustly shouldering a lot of responsibility onto Lloyd like he were a fellow adult. he just listens to lloyd and takes what he says with the same gravity he would if those words were coming from someone like neuro or wu. Lloyd feels very heard and respected, so he sticks close to zane.) then, because Cole and Zane are fast friends and cole has a natural paternal instinct, he and lloyd bond. Colke and jay are a package deal, so Jay ends up growing close to Lloyd too. Jay and Nya are flitring a lot, so now Nya's in the mix and where there's nya, kai is not far behind.

a game of connect the dots in a way?

tell me what YOU think!

thanks for the ask!

[lov3rachan]

Ballroom dancing with SKZ

Summary: Ballroom dancing never felt so… dreamy

Pairing: OT8 (separately) x reader

Genre: fluff , gender neutral (you/your)

Warning: butt slapping in Minho's

Word count: 687 words

Comment: Hope you like it! And yes, it is based off my own experience

Requested by: no one

Written: 09.05.2025, 11.05.2025

Taglist: @skzdreamer13, @blueohs , @rayzyart

Network: @supernovanetwork , @staynotes

Chan

His hand was delicately around your waist, pulling you close, and your hand was cupped, laid delicately on his.

He mouthed a "ready" before the music started and then gently guided you through every twirl and step of the way.

His comforting and confident gaze observed you, gentle.

He was firm but delicate and surprisingly capable.

However, this was not an effortless skill of his.

What he'd never confess, was that he had spent nights practicing it by himself or with a more than unwilling Jeongin in order to help you and lead you through the dances perfectly.

Lee Know

"Always look your dame in the eyes, especially when bowing!" The teacher shouted.

"That's because neckline can be very exposing and you, as gentlemen, should never have wandering eyes... going down"

Minho smirked and said "I'll watch you in the eyes when I bow but if you're twirling, I will be starting at my property".

"Don't call my butt your property!" You're protested, positioning yourself as usual.

Minho took your right hand in his left and the other one, that was supposed to be on your waist, fell "accidentally" on your ass.

As he gave a squeeze, before pulling it up after a glare from the teacher, he replied: "Why not?"

Changbin

Changbin was intimidated, to say the least.

As he stepped in the room, he found himself surrounded by tall guys all around him and he got self conscious.

It didn't take long, though, for him to get comfortable as the other guys kept stumbling over their own feet and roughly pulling their dames along.

Changbin, kn the other hand, cradled you sweetly, mindful of his strength.

Being inn his arms... it felt like home.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin thought it was going to be romantic.

It was not

Three hours if repeating the same sequence over and over again for hundreds of time was driving him crazy.

It was supposed to be relaxed and precise, with a neutral expression on your face or a hint of a smile.

He hated that.

It felt restricting.

As you threw your heels away and he jumped on the bed with what little energy he had left, he swore to never try that again.

Han

He was nervous.

He agreed to take this on because he thought it would be easy, after all he danced all the time.

How hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

At all turns, he kept getting confused or entangled with you, as you two struggled to understand what to do.

As you two fell while practicing in your room, limbs all entangled, you laughed at yourselves and though your dancing was far from perfect, you wouldn't change it for anything in this world.

Felix

As he held you close, your lips inches away from his, he smiled.

"Are you enjoying this?" He uttered, before being silenced by the dance teacher.

A smile was all the confirmation he needed.

And you two waltzed away.

His deep voice resonated in your ear as he whispered the counts to you, to make sure you both followed the rhythm perfectly.

His eyes met yours, filled with adoration and the intimacy of it all made you flush.

Now you truly understood how Disney princesses must have felt.

Seungmin

Seungmin was boiling.

"I swear if he says 'collectivity' once more, I will strangle him" was one of his many threats towards your innocent dance teacher, who was trying to get all couples up to date and in sync.

As you repeated for what felt the hundredth time the same dull sequence, Seungmin started scoffing at other people's dancing between one turn and the other.

"We're clearly the best couple here. Might as well make us the centerpiece, right?"

I.N

It was supposed to be simple.

Step forward, then back and turn.

As easy as it could be.

He was lost observing your focused face that he messed up the turn and bumped into you.

He reddened and apologised profusely, bowing down.

"Sorry, sorry" he said.

"It's okay" you answered, as you twirled around.

Every bump or accidental touch made Jeongin's heart race.

Why was ballroom dancing so... weirdly intimate?

[emeritusemeritus]

I'm sorry but I don't know English and I'm using a translator to write you this

you could write (it's not mandatory) where Weasley twins are unfaithful to their girlfriend with another Gryffindor student and do everything to have their forgiveness, thank you🥺

My dear Anon, thank you so much for your incredible request. I hope you don’t mind that I changed a few things around whilst trying to stay true to your request. This idea came to me and I couldn’t leave it alone. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: cheating!fic, themes of unfaithful behaviour and betrayal. Swearing. Sorry Angelina, I’m sure you’re lovely but I needed a villain. Amortentia, drugging using a love potion. Friends are lied to and used. Fuck you Marcus Flint.

Word count: 4.8k

Song for writing: Lachryma by Ghost🖤

Crying over someone like you [Weasley Twins x Reader]

If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you'd have never believed it.

George Weasley, one half of the Weasley twin duo and one of your boyfriends of over three years. His figure, so tall and resolute lingered in the corridor adjacent to the great hall, his posture bent and his hair characteristically vibrant and messy. His clothes were oddly matched, a contrast of faded colour and interesting patterns and textures, snuggly fitted around the ankles. His freckled cheeks flushed with colour, his long eyelashes kissing those very cheeks as he stands with his eyes closer, his full pink lips pursed and kissing Daphne Greengrass.

You felt like you'd been cursed on the spot stumbling upon the pair locking lips in the corridor, neither of them even trying to hide their intimacy. If you hadn't been with Fred, your other boyfriend, you would have completely fallen apart in that moment, rendered silent and heartbroken by your discovery. Luckily for you, Fred had not frozen at seeing the scene but had instead leapt into action, dropping your hand and instantly lunging towards his twin, pulling him away from a seemingly unbothered Daphne.

You didn't know what followed Fred's initial reaction, despite the multitude of rumours floating around the school, as you had fled the scene in floods of tears, feeling sickened to your core.

The days following the incident you'd wanted to isolate yourself completely but your friends had not allowed that to happen and instead had remained by your side at all times with unwavering support. Fred had tried to help you, to put a smile of your face and assure you that he was still very much here and in love with you regardless of his idiot brother but he'd been put in an impossible position torn between his twin brother and his girlfriend.

George had been silent. He hadn't attempted to talk to you or make contact, neither did he acknowledge you at all in the days that followed. He couldn't even respect you enough to end the relationship in any way. After over three years together in what you thought was the kind of love that never faltered, he couldn't even explain himself or his actions. You'd expected a message passed along in some way with a half-hearted excuse of why he no longer loved you, if he ever had. Your thoughts spiralled when no communication came, your mind trying to process what had happened and beginning to try to understand how. Had he ever loved you? How had you not seen the signs that his eye was wandering?

The fact was that there were no signs. Only the day before he had been his usual self, as tactile and loving as he ever was. He'd told you that he loved you the day before you'd found him kissing Daphne Greengrass and you'd never questioned it, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. That's what hurt the most.

Rumours of what happened had reached nearly every corner of the school within hours, most notably the now infamous fight between the two twins which had never happened before. Following that, the brothers were no longer on speaking terms and they had not been spotted together once since their spat- the longest they had ever gone without speaking.

The other rumour circulating with just as much scandal was that Daphne Greengrass was feverishly denying that it had ever happened in the first place. Apparently the rumour of her kissing George, a Gryffindor and a Weasley no less was rather upsetting to her and she'd declared her truth loudly and tearfully to anyone that mentioned it; not that you cared in the slightest of her apparent upset.

Fred was a wreck, ghosted by his twin brother and alone for the first time in his life without his constant sidekick. George had disappeared on him, choosing to spend his time anywhere but around either you or Fred. It was like he'd disappeared completely.

That was until your second run in with George and Daphne, both of them walking up the path back from the Quidditch pitch, hand in hand and chuckling secretively to each other. Thankfully this time Fred wasn't with you but would have already been at the quidditch practice, an ominous thought if he'd seen the couple together already. You tried to keep your head down and avoid them, feeling sick to your stomach at the sight of them so evidently in love.

Not a word was spoken and though you tried to resist looking towards the boy you'd loved for years, you couldn't help but peak hopefully at him as you passed. There was nothing. Not even a single glance of recognition in his face and certainly no remorse. He couldn't even spare you the common courtesy of a glance or a greeting, never mind an apology.

Once they had passed you, you paused on the pathway. George looked different somehow, though you couldn't put your finger on it initially. His clothes did not fit in the same way they usually did and they looked different, more vibrant, newer. You frowned and vowed yourself to carry on walking, the notion perplexing you the whole way to the quidditch pitch where you had been meeting Fred after practice.

When you finally reached the pitch feeling shaken and your heartbreak renewed, all havoc had broken loose. Fred was prowling the pitch like a caged animal, anger evident in his face and his body, muscles tense and his fists clenching and unclenching. Katie, Alicia and Ron were all stood around trying to talk sense into Fred but it was clearly not working once bit. You didn't know where to start, what to say or do to make him calm down, assuming you knew where his anger had stemmed from.

Luckily, Iain Claverdon, the sweet and slightly dense resident benchwarmer of the Gryffindor quidditch team spotted you standing off to the side and strolled over, urging you to come help.

"He saw George and that girl, went mad at him but George didn't even look at him! I mean I know they're brothers and all but that's not right. I don't know what's got into George's head lately, I mean he's even misplaced his quidditch robes. Can you believe it? Luckily I had a spare set to lend him but after she turned up he just walked off! First Angelina's not here and then he just walks out, shocking! Guess I won't be seeing those robes again."

"Y/n!"

You heard your name called and flashed your eyes up, seeing Alicia ushering you over with much more urgency than Iain had. Your legs moved almost on autopilot as you walked towards your boyfriend and friends, your head spinning from the overload of information Iain had given you. George had left mid-practice and lost his robes? There's no way your George would have ever done that, he loved Quidditch more than anything.

"Y/n, we can't calm him down," Katie says, meeting you halfway and practically dragging you by the wrist as she jogs over to where Fred is still pacing.

"Maybe you could try," Alicia says once you get closer. "He won't listen to any of us, George was being a right prick."

Fred had practically crushed you when he saw you, pulling you into his chest, your face pressed against the leather ties of his robes. His goggles were practically suffocating you as they hung around his neck, long forgotten, his padded arms holding you tightly into his body. It had taken nearly five minutes to calm him down but he'd eventually relented. You could see how much this was all affecting him, the bomb that had been thrown into your life and the consequences you were both dealing with after too much for Fred to deal with whilst trying to keep his head above water. Though you had lost your boyfriend and your best friend, Fred had lost his literal other half. You could see the strain it put on him, how lost he was without George around and how hard it was to accept this new much less caring version of George you were seeing.

"Shut up Iain!" You heard Katie snip as you walked back to the group with a much calmed Fred by your side, his arm never leaving your body.

"I'm just saying!" Iain says with a shrug.

"What?" You asked once you reached the group, seeing Katie and Alicia shooting glares at Iain whilst struggling to shut away the box of equipment.

"Some slytherins have had their belongings go walkabouts. Between Luna's shoes going missing again, Ang missing practice, the Slytherin thief and all the rest of it, I'm starting to think there's something fishy happening around here."

"Don't be an idiot Iain," Katie said rolling her eyes.

"Hey guys, I'm really sorry I missed practice. Couldn't get out of detention this time, I swear Professor Sprout knows we're going to demolish Hufflepuff at the next match and shes playing dirty," Angelina said as she came into view, holding her hands up as she talked with a smile on her face. You frowned again, noticing that she wasn't actually remorseful despite her words, neither was she as furious as you would have expected her to be about the captain of the team being forced to miss practice, especially this close to a vital match.

"Oi Johnson! It's our time on the pitch so you lot'll have to scramble," Marcus Flint sneered as he walked onto to the pitch, his green quidditch robes billowing as he walked, holding his broom and flanked by the entire Slytherin quidditch team.

"Let's get going," Angelina said to her team, apparently listening to Flint for the first time ever.

"Fred, I need to borrow you." She gestures with her head, turning towards your boyfriend who simply nodded, both of them slipping behind the curtain so that they could talk in private.

Your interest piqued once again, feeling slightly on edge by how weird everything felt now. George's deceit had really played a number on your mind, making you question everything around you. Everything felt wrong somehow, out of place, like you couldn't trust anyone or see things clearly. Perhaps it was the torment of the heartbreak consuming you and creating a fog around you but everything just felt off, your life turning into a series of strange encounters.

Things only got weirder once Thursday rolled around, five days after you'd seen George kiss Daphne for the first time and your heart had been stamped on.

It was around 8pm and whilst most of the school was beginning to wind down from their activities and settle in for the night, Marcus Flint had other plans. The note he'd acquired earlier that day had given him such a rush of fresh excitement that he knew there would be no way he could settle down until well after midnight. He'd dutifully slipped out of the Slytherin common room and had weaved his way around the school without any detection, traipsing the long walk to the quidditch pitch alone, carrying his singular bag. There's a spring in his step at the very thought of what was to come, these little meetings the highlights of his week as he walks to the rendezvous spot. He steps into the tent at the rear of the quidditch stadium, the near darkness making it harder to locate as he stumbles around the laid out benches. He's in enemy territory here, looking at the chalkboard with a plan of the pitch, a few defensive notes and names of the Gryffindor team written across the board haphazardly, pleased he had managed to find the Gryffindor tent so easily. If his head were in the right place, he'd consider taking notes of their defensive strategies and double down on them during the next match but he can't bring himself to care enough. Lately, he'd found himself unable to concentrate on his school work or even Quidditch at all, his mind fixated upon a single thought. And so what if he lost a few matches this season? She was worth it.

Daphne Greengrass was a goddess amongst women. The type of girl any man would be proud to have e hanging on his arm. To look at her was to see a constellation of stars, so blinding in their beauty it rendered everything around them insignificant. He was in love with her, body and soul and he'd do anything for a chance with her.

"Marcus," the voice called out to him softly, that beautiful feminine voice that he could only compare to the sound of an angel's own song.

He whipped around at the sound, desperate to know that it wasn't just his imagination, legs quaking when he realised that it wasn't all in his head. Daphne Greengrass was truly stood in front of him, speaking his name, looking directly at him as she steps aside from the tent opening. By Salazar she was beautiful, ethereal almost, heavenly.

"Marcus," she repeats, just as softly as before, her arousing voice beckoning him like a siren calling out to an unfortunate sailor. She flashes him a smile of perfectly white teeth, beckoning him further whilst he remains frozen, his mind whirling dangerously to try to bring him back to reality, praying that this Angel would still be here when he did.

"I've been looking for you," she says with a coy smile, biting her lip between her teeth. Marcus is fixated on the slight movement, the alluring way her plump pink lip boss appears between her perfect teeth, so teasing and innocent and yet so sinful.

"Me?" He manages to squeak out, his voice sounding much less majestic than hers. She nods, gliding forward towards him.

"I was told a little secret earlier today, can you guess what that might be?" She asks, reaching up with her perfectly manicured fingers to reach for the scruffy collar of his shirt. He clears his throat at the contact, barely able to get a word out and so he shakes his head in reply. She smiles again, giggling slightly at his actions.

"I was told you had a little crush on me," she leans down and whispers in his ear, her hot breath and her melodic voice forcing his eyes closed at the intimacy of the action.

"Yes," he says, sounding tranquillised, willingly giving up the information as if under her spell, desperately hoping her hands would remain on him in anyway they would.

"That's fortunate," she says with a girlish giggle, "because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

His eyes flash open, wider than a cauldron lid as her words repeat in his mind.

"Me, me? What about umm... George?"

"George Weasley? Now now Marcus, did you really think I'd believe it was George I was kissing?"

Marcus looks dazed, his eyes glazed over as he looks into hers. The hope in his eyes is evident, a look of sheer desperation on every inch of his face.

"You.. you knew it was me?"

"Of course I did silly," she giggles again, her sing like laughter making his heart soar. "I think I'd know if I was kissing George Weasley."

"Don't say his name," Marcus bites back angrily with a frown, the illusion he's holding onto in his mind of the perfect moment slightly fracturing from the sound of another man's name falling from her lips.

"I'm sorry Marcus," she says quickly, meekly. He hates the sound of it initially, cursing himself for his anger and for breaking the moment. But underneath he secretly loves the way she begs for his forgiveness, her subservient tone strangely arousing.

"It was such a clever plan," she continues. He can hardly concentrate with how her warm hand strokes against his arm, the path of her touch making his skin tingle. "Why wasn't it just you all along? It could have been your lips I've been kissing all week."

The very notion of her words makes him weak. No longer would be have to pretend to be that filthy Weasley boy but instead he could dream that his lips would be the one to touch hers, those perfect lips that he'd be happy to suffocate against.

"Angelina," he gasps out as her hand brushes his neck, having moved across his shoulder and up his arms, his trousers suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.

"What?" She says, sounding hurt. He'd ruined it all, said another girl's name and broken her trust in him. He had to fix it right now.

"Angelina Johnson, it was all her idea. She had me drink Polyjuice to turn into George, said you'd never want me for me. Now I know how you feel, trust me I'll deal with her."

"No need," she says, her tone suddenly much harsher, the ethereal tone to her voice fading away. He looks up at her with wide eyes, an ominous feeling of dread beginning to seep into him. "She's been dealt with."

"What?" He begins to say, confused and concerned as he hears her voice change in tone.

He stumbles back when he watches her perfect face begin to distort, like something from a horror film, skin stretching and moving upon its own accord. Her features alter before his eyes, the face and body he'd spent weeks memorising and committing to his memory distorting before him.

Suddenly, he's no longer faced by the girl of his dreams but rather one of his more recent nightmares, you.

"You, you!" He begins to say, startled and frightened under the weight of your hateful gaze. "What is this?"

His head whips around when another figure appears, though this one he had certainly not intended to see tonight.

"Angelina?" He stutters, the pair of them gazing at each other in alarm upon seeing you stood there. You take the opportunity of their distracted gazes and pull out your wand, locking the panelled curtain door with a swish of your wrist, securing the tent.

The noise of the canvas being secured echoes like a whip in the small space and startles both of the non suspecting people inside the tent.

"Y/n," Angelina begins to say, her face screwed up with a frown despite her smile, clearly thinking you were joking.

"Tell him," you say, prompting her to do the right thing.

"What?" She asks with a chuckle, still feigning ignorance. That is until she sees the clothes that you were wearing, the green accents and emblem of the uniform so foreign against your body. You watch as her eyes widen in panic, clearly realising that this was not a joke at all. I'm that moment, she realised that you knew everything.

"Y/n," she says again, trying to defend herself but you silence her with a single look of hatred.

"Tell. Him."

"Tell me what?" Marcus says, suddenly frustrated by the lack of sharing happening, his disappointment making his anger shine through.

"Tell him." You raise your wand towards her, your face expressionless and your eyes piercing.

"Alright!" She turns to Marcus, wavering in her confidence. "It hasn't been Daphne Greengrass you've been kissing."

"What?!"

Angelina recoils, all pretence of confidence having slipped away. It takes one shift of your wand-wielding hand for her to begins again.

"It was me," Angelina confesses, shrinking in on herself. "I pretended to be Daphne so that you would  keep being George! If you thought you were kissing Daphne then I knew you'd keep doing it!"

Marcus is stunned and horrified by her words, his face contorting into a look of severe distaste, like the thought alone was sour.

"And?" You say, breaking the silence. Her eyes whip around to you, realising once again that you knew more than she thought. Suddenly, she's turning her vitriol upon you, eyes blazing as she squares her shoulders.

"This is all your fault! You already had Fred, why did you need George too?! If you'd just been happy with one you little slut none of this would have happened!"

She reaches for her wand as her shouts echo through the tent but you're too quick, blasting her wand away from her with a simple spell and catching it mid air as it falls to you.

"Tell. Him."

She's silent, alarmed by your ability to disarm her to effortlessly. You take it upon yourself to look at Marcus who looks frightened for his life.

"That's not all though is it Angie?" You snark, using the nickname you knew she hated before turning your attention to Flint. You rifle through your pocket and pull out a single sweet wrapped up in an orange wrapper.

"Look familiar?" You ask, holding it up between your fingers.

"Bitch," you hear Angelina mutter under her breath, but rather than infuriate you further, it fuels you.

"Those sweets you gave me," he says to Angelina in shock, "how do you have one? She said they were limited edition!"

You have to fight to not roll your eyes in that moment, realising how painfully dim the Slytherin captain was.

"You mean the melon drops you stole from Fred and laced with Amortentia?"

"What?" Marcus says, his head whipping around towards Angelina who has taken a seat in one of the benches, averting her gaze entirely.

"She's been lacing you with love potion! I knew it was odd that the Slytherin thief had suddenly stopped. You 'talking' with Fred at practice was just a ploy to get more of his sweet creations from him because you wanted to carry on lying to Marcus! How did you manage it? Have someone else on the inside did you?"

"You stupid bitch!" She begins to lunge, only to be stopped as Marcus brandishes his wand in her direction, his eyes livid and his face bright red with anger. His wand goes flying through the air as you disarm him too, leaving them both defenceless without their wands.

"Well, there's nothing you can do now! George will hate you when he finds out, you'll be lucky to even keep Fred! You don't deserve them and you never did!" She's manic, eyes glassy as she snarls at you.

"I wouldn't be so sure," a voice says from the sidelines, two near identical figures stepping around the curtains to reveal themselves.

"George," she says breathlessly, saying his name like a prayer. Her face is full of hope, eyes pleading with his as she smiles up at him like he'll be her salvation. Her smile fades quickly when George walks over to you and wraps his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Fred mirrors his actions and you stand united as a trio against the two that had wronged you.

"Please Georgie, I love you," she pleads one final time. George remains stoic, unwavering and unbothered by her confession.

"I love my girl."

"Did you hear about Marcus Flint and Angelina? Who'd have thought!" One of the younger Gryffindors says scandalously as they tuck in to their evening meal. You'd tried to avoid the inevitable gossip but no matter where you went it seemed to follow you. It was Monday evening and you were sat in the great hall between your boyfriends, all of you tucking in to the food with little restraint. George's hand rested on your thigh underneath the table as Fred's left hand absently rubbed your lower back intermittently. Everything was perfect again, as if nothing had ever been any different.

"I know! I heard they both went missing over the weekend," Dean says from slightly higher up the table, never one to miss out of the circulating gossip.

"Well I didn't see it but I heard that they were caught sneaking onto the quidditch pitch after hours, something about rigging the next match apparently!"

"Oh bull, we all know why they were there together late and night and it's got nothing to do with quidditch," another girl giggles. A few people snigger and you simply bite down on your lip to stop yourself from joining, feeling George's hand squeezing your upper thigh.

"They got caught by Snape fooling around apparently, couldn't imagine a worse way to go to be honest," Lee interjects with a grin.

"No you've got it wrong," Ron says, from across the table, still chewing on a chicken leg. Your gaze flicks to Hermione sat beside him who grimaces at his lack of table manners and you chuckle.

"I heard they went up in a puff of black smoke and disappeared! Apparently then didn't find them until midday Sunday in the shrieking shack!"

He's waving his potato covered fork wildly as he speaks, his arms swaying back and forth with his words. Hermione reaches for his hand and slams it on the table, keeping the sharp cutlery firmly in one place and away from her face where he was wielding it previously.

"Really?" You hear Fred say, a tone of wonder in his voice.

"Yeah!" Ron replies animatedly, his gaze flicking to his fork as if he's scared to raise his arm again to bring it to his mouth.

"Weird," George replies, taking a bite of his own food as he nudges you secretly. You smirk behind your goblet, knowing exactly the reason for the rumours, the crystals of Peruvian instant darkness powder in George's pocket faintly clinking together with his movement.

"So George, what's it like to know that kissing you is  a Slytherin girls worst nightmare?" Lee says with a boyish giggle, the rest of the table following suit.

Fred had been brilliant in orchestrating a coverup for what had happened with George and Daphne. Fred had let it slip to Seamus that one of his and George's prototype daydream charms had disappeared along with their freshly made melon drops, only it hadn't been the daydream one but rather the misery charm they'd been working on but couldn't get right. If the incantation has been used correctly, it would torment the user, showing them a vivid nightmare of their deepest fears. Kind of like a charm version of a boggart, only the magic wasn't yet perfected and it had led to fake George appearing on and off in his boggart form until the real one returned, clinging on to everyone's misery like a dementor.

The story was that Flint had stolen the items from Fred and George and had used it upon Daphne, leading to the strange occurrences. She'd have no memory of it of course, it was virtually undetectable but the consequences of what happened were enough for the twins to cancel making the item, seeing what hurt it could cause.

Seamus, being the worst secret keeper in all of Hogwarts, told Dean, who told Parvati, who told Cho and Pansy, which meant that the entire school had found out within hours of what Daphne had seen when Marcus had charmed her.

"You know what mate, it's a relief," George replies to Lee, smiling widely with pink cheeks. "Only one girl I want kissing me anyway."

He squeezes your leg under the table again and you beam at him. Ron pretends to gag at the sweetness, earning a swift kick to the shin from Hermione whilst Lee holds up an uneaten chicken drumstick as a somewhat toast to George's words.

"Bet it was nice to get away from school for a few days eh? Though you couldn't have chosen a worse time," Dean says, gesturing to you who had been upset for most of the week, believing the rumours. "What did Mcgonagall want anyway?"

"The academy of broom flying needed a beater for their teaching course. Five days of nothing but Quidditch, absolute bliss if you ask me. It was between me and Fred but she thought I was the safer option," he beamed at the words, clearly taking great pride in what she had said, though really he was probably just the lesser of two evils.

"The quidditch robes," you say under your breath, the finally puzzle piece slipping in place, remembering how they had been missing from his room and that Flint had borrowed Iain's.

"Which reminds me, George I'm going to need those robes back you borrowed," Iain says from down the table, clearly having been listening to the conversation. George looks confused and begins to open his mouth to question Iain but you slip your hand onto his under the table to gently silence him.

"Don't worry Iain, you'll get them back," you say with a smile. He nods, smiling, before tucking back into his food.

"Eventually."

[gotaksboyfie]

Hiii! Your headcanons and fics are so good hehe I’m obsessed!! ( ◠‿◠ )💗

Is it alright to request something for Hyuntak with a pretty short partner? (like 4’-11-5’0 TT but above that is also okay since I know there’s a lot more short queens and kings hehe above💗) and can also be gender neutral too as always hehe because everyone deserves love from this beautiful man :) 💗

Thank you so much and even though you’re new to tumblr your posts are amazing and I’m really excited to see your future works! I hope you have an awesome day/night hehe :) 💐

go hyuntak with a short partner

general

gif creds: @billornot

» being 5'11, he genuinely cannot see your head if he looks straight forward. he can see a the very tip of your head, at the very most. even if it means straining his neck just to see your face, he'll gladly do it

» when you walk side by side, it's a little awkward to hold hands because of the height gap. you have to opt for holding his arm instead </3

» silently moves almost everything onto the lower shelves when you start coming over more often. it's such a gradual change that you don't notice it at first, but after around 2 weeks you notice that you don't struggle with getting plates off the top shelves anymore

» when it's windy, you hide behind his tall frame. even though the wind whips his face leaving his nose red, you're warm and content behind him and that's enough for hyuntak

» because of his long legs, he's always a few steps behind you. you have to practically jog to catch up with him. ever since he's started walking with you, it takes a lot longer to get to destinations. still, he doesn't complain since it means more time with you

» unironically becomes your best photographer. he captures you in such candid ways, you can practically feel his love for you through the phone. also, he makes your proportions look so good, it's like you're the 5'11

» loves hugs with you. he tucks your head under his chin, and it's like you guys are made for each other. he's obsessed with how well you fit with him, like a matching puzzle piece

» his shirts are genuinely huge on you. they drape over you like a dress. sometimes you like to tease him and wear nothing underneath, giving him easy access to you

» hyuntak loves the size difference. he'll hold your hands and marvel at how small they are compared to his. little does he know, you love it too

» you never really notice how hyuntak always bends down to talk to you, until one of your friends point it out. from then on, you start to take notice in all of the small things hyuntak does to be closer to you. he'll lean down on whatever side you're on, even when you're not talking

» likes carrying you around. either bridal style or on his shoulders. it's so easy for him to just reach down and pick you up, especially considering your short stature

fin

a/n this was so fun to write because i'm actually 5'1 myself LMAO i searched up his actors height and he came up as 5'11.. dang. canonically in the webtoon i think hes around 5'8-5'9 but lets go with the taller option hehe :3

i didn't know if you wanted a fic or something like this, but i went with the latter. if you want an actual fic dont be shy to req me again! 🫶 and thank you so much btw!! have a great rest of your day, or a great sleep if it's night <3 sorry for the yap fest LOL

[ikyunho]

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[17:30] Myung Jaehyun ~ Boynextdoor

Pairing: idol mc!jaehyun x idol mc!reader

Warnings: lovesick Jaehyun, Idk I have no plot just a dream, this mildly devastating

A/N: I have never watched an ep of MCountdown without being overwhelmed and turning it off, Sohee I miss you.

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Anxiously, you flipped through your script and analyzed every highlight, note, and comment. You’d never done anything remotely similar to MC-ing for one of the most popular music shows in the country, so why did you agree to be their guest host? Simple. Myung Jaehyun.

He’d been nagging and begging you to accept the offer for weeks. When MCountdown announced they were in need of a temporary MC, the first person Jaehyun thought of to fill the position was you. What could go wrong? It was good promotion for you, and you could finally be with each other after being apart for so long.

There was one issue that both of you seemed to have forgotten. Your relationship wasn’t public, nor did your companies want them to be public any time soon.

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After nervously fixing your hair and committing your lines to memory, you and Jaehyun walked into the area where you would be spending the next several hours. His hand reached for yours to calm your racing nerves instinctively, only for staff to cough in warning from behind the cameras. The two of you gave each other a look before stepping apart to avoid a rise of suspicions and dating rumors per company request.

Seeing how quickly Jaehyun deflated into himself had a sad sigh falling from your lips. But as quickly as it happened, he put on a smile and acted like he wasn't disappointed. The usual puppy love filled look in his eye replaced with displeasure and frustration.

He had it all planned out. He was supposed to be with you, hold your hand, and finally spend more time together than the short sleepovers that resulted in someone being gone when the other woke up. You weren't supposed to steal glances at each other every time the camera cut hoping that no one caught you.

You both walk backstage for a moment under the guise of needing water. You're concerned and Jaehyun is visibly upset, effecting the usual fun and happy environment of the show.

"Jae... What is up with you?" You question, hands reaching for his worry covering your face.

"This wasn't how I planned for things to go. They don't care when Sohee and I hug or even get close to each other. I wanted to be able to actually be near you, not on opposite sides of the room," He answered, looking at the ground with a devastatingly cute pout on his face.

You let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze from the floor to you. "I know this isn't what you wanted it to be like, but we can make it work. Now, let's go back out there, stand next to each other, and maybe I'll let you hold my hand when we aren't live," you responded with a slight giggle before dragging him out of the room, both of you smiling more than when the show started.

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The audience of fans quickly noticed the change in demeanor. Jaehyun was practically glued to your side, grinning and giggling like he was back in kindergarten. He didn't care about spreading rumors anymore. They weren't even rumors if they were true, right? All he cared about was you and the smile on your face that he loved so much.

The rest of the show was significantly better. Morale was high and both of you were beaming with joy. Your lovesick puppy was back, and you wouldn't have it any other way. To say the fans were obsessed was an understatement. Tweets with screenshots and clips of you together were going viral, the viewer counts skyrocketed, and it did wonders for publicity. All because Jaehyun loved you and was able to show it how he so desperately wished to do.

But if he asked you to come back as a host, everyone, staff and all would say no. He was happier than ever and views were up, but productivity was down seeing as Jaehyun was too busy staring at you with hearts in his eyes when the cameras weren't rolling.

It was safe to say that your first (and last) time hosting a music show with Myung Jaehyun was one for the books.

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